


For the Clockmaker's Heart

by Jess_B_Fossil



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fae, Boys In Love, Drama, Epic romance story, Fae & Fairies, I haven't decided yet., M/M, Otabek is a fae, Romance, Yuri is a clockmaker, long-haired Otabek, otayuri - Freeform, potential smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-06-28 00:18:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19800784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jess_B_Fossil/pseuds/Jess_B_Fossil
Summary: In which a clockmaker falls in love with the fae that he finds in an antique clock. Really, what is Yuri to do?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theangryuniverse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theangryuniverse/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we behold, the beginning of a late birthday/anniversary present to theangryuniverse. It's been a year since we met, but my life is far better for it. This probably won't be long, but it won't be short either.

“ _Yurio_ \--”

“That’s not my fucking name, you pig,” Yuri snarled in response, trudging through dark leaves and roots that littered the ground. Yuri didn’t make a habit of exploring the Faewood, but he’d make an exception if it meant escaping from a certain, dark-haired asian man that--

“Yuri,” the other man replied, his tone tired of arguing. _A man who didn’t know when to just let shit go_. Yuri scowled deeply, refusing to acknowledge him. Instead he paused, looking around him, regarding the trees that were so tall that the sky disappeared. The Faewood wasn’t for the faint of heart. It was a thing of made up stories-- the kind that you told children to scare them into behaving. Yuri snorted at that. 

“I know you don’t want to talk to me,” Yuuri Katsuki said, sidling up next to him. _No shit_ , Yuri _never_ wanted to talk to him-- “I just wanted to make sure that you are alright.”

Yuri sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. For all his bravado, he didn’t actually hate the man. It more like an extreme aggravation, something that could be looked over from time to time. “I’m fine,” he finally bit out. 

“Yuri, I don’t think you are--”

“You aren’t my father,” Yuri snapped, “so stop acting like it.”

Katsuki frowned slightly, letting out his own sigh. “I’m your _friend_ ,” he stressed, pressing a comforting hand against Yuri’s shoulder. “And I miss him too.”

The brief moment of civility between them snapped, and Yuri yanked from the other man’s grasp. “All I wanted to do was to have a picnic with him.” _At his grave_ were the unspoken words that floated between them.

“I know.” Katsuki’s voice was quiet and patient. Understanding. Part of Yuri fucking hated it, and the other found comfort in it. 

“And fucking _JJ_ \--” Yuri let out a frustrated grunt. “The things that he said… I want to punch his fucking face,” Yuri finished. 

At that, Katsuki flashed a smile, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I’m pretty sure your grandfather wouldn’t have liked that.”

Yuri allowed his lips to twist into a bare smirk. “No, but he would have understood it.” Silence stretched between them, as Yuri fiddled with the strap of his pack. “Thanks, Pig.” 

Katsuki’s nose crinkled slightly at the loose term of endearment, but waved it away. “Let’s keep walking. Perhaps we’ll find a nice place to lay out the picnic?”

Yuri rolled his eyes, but held out his hand for the other man to lead the way. 

…

  


The Plisetsky’s had been clockmakers since practically the beginning of time, and Yuri was no exception. Unlike, his grandfather though, Yuri didn’t have an artistic bone in his body. He could fix _any_ broken clock that was set before him, but he was lost when it came to carving and painting the wood the parts were set in. 

Yuri had been a kid, when his grandfather had brought Yuuri Katsuki home with him, a nervous bundle of glasses and dark hair from the Far East. 

_I saw his work while I was traveling_ , Nikolai had intoned. _His art will suit you_.

And so, they were slated to work together. As Yuri grew out of his apprenticeship, he found that his grandfather had been right. There was a lot wrong with _The Pig_ , but it wasn’t his eye for clean lines. Despite his smallish frame, his hands were wide and calloused, well attuned to carving and shaping wood. 

Combined with Yuri’s ability to practically _speak_ to machinery and clock parts, they were a match made in heaven. Together, they created work that was highly sought after across the entire province. Nikolai had retired, watching them take over the family business with pride. 

His grandfather had been everything to Yuri. Sure, he could reluctantly call Katsuki a _friend_ , but Nikolai had been his _only_ family. The day that he had died, so had Yuri. He’d always been loud and brash, but now he was just angry, _so fucking angry_. And apparently prone to violent outbursts. 

Thankfully, he’d run away from JJ before causing a scene, ducking into the Faewood without a thought. He’d known the priss of a man wouldn’t follow him, but he hadn’t counted on Katsuki to do so. Despite their little spat earlier, they trudged through the underbrush with an ease between them. 

“It was the wrong place to conduct business, Yuri,” Katsuki finally said. 

“JJ is an asshole,” Yuri retorted, kicking at a branch. “What did you _think_ he’d do?” 

“I _know_ you’ve been avoiding him--”

“Have you seen the commission he wants?” Yuri hissed. “It’s gaudy, even for him.”

“He’s a merchant lord,” Katsuki reminded him, knowing that JJ’s taste was quite obvious. 

“You can’t tell me that you want to make it,” Yuri grumbled. 

“I’ll make just about anything, for a price,” the shorter man said. “Even _that_.”

“I can’t--” Yuri stopped dead in his step, motioning forward. “Is that a _house_?”

Katsuki followed the motion, his head cocking to the side. So it wasn’t _unheard_ of that people might settle in the Faewood, but he’d never seen such a residence. It was a small cottage, with a wrap around porch. Half of the roof was falling in though, and judging by the general state of disrepair-- it’d been empty for a long time. 

“Yuri, I don’t think--”

“Shush, Pig. Let’s go check it out.”

Katsuki tinted pink at the name, biting his lip. Yuri sighed, knowing what was coming. “That’s a terrible idea,” the other man said. 

“I’m not known for my _good ideas_ ,” Yuri said, before stepping down the path and towards the house. 

“Yuri!” Katsuki practically yelled, but was promptly ignored. Yuri could hear him as he picked his way down the path after him.

The moment Yuri’s foot found the porch step, the entire thing groaned under his weight, causing him to pause. Katsuki gave him a look of warning, which caused Yuri to roll his eyes. “It’s _fine_ ,” he said, putting his full weight down-- and promptly _through_ the step. He yelped slightly, trying to catch his balance.

“Yuri, this is a terrible idea,” Katsuki said for the second time. 

Yuri pulled his foot from the rotten wood, testing another step. It was firm beneath him. “I need a distraction,” he said. “This is a great one.” Really, anything to pull his mind from the anniversary of his grandfather’s death, and the absurdity that was JJ as a whole. 

“You really should be more cautious,” Katsuki sighed. 

“You can’t tell me that you actually believe those stories,” Yuri replied, halfway up the front steps. He looked back down to where the pig stood, his arms crossed. 

“ _No_ ,” Katsuki said, his cheeks flaring up pink with embarrassment. “I’m just… well-- you never know, right?” 

Yuri snorted. “Well, either you follow, or you stay out here-- and who knows what’s out here, am I right?.” He practically watched the color drain from the other man’s face, and then laughed when Katsuki moved to climb to the porch after him. 

They tested for patches of rot, but everything seemed sound, aside from the first step that had caught them. The handle on the front door was rusted with time, but Yuri managed to wrench it open. 

Despite the building half-falling down, the inside was in order-- no one had ever come and sacked it. Furniture was neatly placed and there were personal items still about, everything covered in a thick layer of dust and leaves. 

“Makes you wonder,” Katsuki said, leaning over a table, dusting it off with his shirt sleeve. “Who lived out here?”

“Probably someone who wanted to be left alone.” Yuri got it, really he did. Sometimes you just hit a point where you wanted _nothing_ to do with others. Despite his annoyance of Katsuki’s nervous presence, he was the only person he remotely tolerated. And though he’d never admit it, he’d actually miss the guy, if he ever decided to leave. 

Yuri watched as the Pig reached into a cupboard, pulling out a delicate piece of china. “I’ve never seen anything so fine,” the man said, running his fingers along the porcelain cup. “This craftsmanship is definitely unique.”

Yuri opened his mouth to reply, when something else caught his eye. With a few steps, he’d crossed the room to the corner, reaching out to press his fingers against the clock. It wasn’t very large, really. Short and a little squat, about the size of his cat Potya. It was made from a slick black wood, corners and edges carved with intricate perfection. Yuri reached out, his fingers brushing along the tarnished gold leaf rubbed along its lines. 

“This is beautiful,” Katsuki said, from his side. He’d followed him into the corner, after tucking the teacup into his own knapsack. His fingers followed Yuri’s reaching out over the polished wood. “I’ve never seen wood like this,” he murmured. 

“Is it stained?” Yuri asked. He hadn’t either, this dark hue. It was as pitch as a moonless night. 

“No, I don’t think so,” Katsuki said. “If it were, these grainlines would look different. They’d carry the color with a flatness. Instead, there’s dimension in the grooves. The color shifts with the cuts.”

Yuri hummed at that, his fingers pinching a sharp edge, before flitting downward towards the beveled glass door that housed the gears. So far the hands hadn’t moved, but he wasn’t surprised-- there hadn’t been a person around to wind the thing properly. He pulled at the little handle, but it refused to budge. _Odd_. 

“I want to keep this,” Yuri said quietly, after another moment of admiration. 

Katsuki blinked at that, before looking around. “Well, it’s not as if anyone will miss it,” he said dryly. He then patted his pack, reminding Yuri that he was taking his own souvenir. “You’ll have to come back for it though.”

Yuri hummed at that, moving to pick it up. “I think I would get lost trying to find this place again. If it’s not-- _Oh_ ,” he breathed. The clock barely weighed a thing, and he hadn’t expected that, nearly toppling over with the extra force he’d thrown behind his arms. “It weighs practically nothing.”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow at that. “Yuri, that’s at least thirty pounds worth of wood, and I’m not even considering the gearworks and gold--”

Yuri practically threw it into the man’s hands, and he struggled to grasp at it, only to find that Yuri was right. “Well that’s… er, strange,” he said, passing it back to Yuri. “What will you do with it?”

“Fix it, obviously, since the dumb thing doesn’t work.”

“Perhaps a project would be good for you,” Katsuki said. 

He was right, as always. Yuri _needed_ a distraction, and this was clearly a one-of-a-kind piece. Still, he had to wonder, what was it doing _here_? The home was littered with unique furniture and trade works of highly talented craftsman. 

Yuri turned to the pig, only to find him looking at his wristwatch. “It’s getting late,” he said. “I don’t want to get stuck here after dark. Let’s go home, Yuri.”

 _Yeah, home_. 

...

It was a familiar motion. He gripped a small screwdriver in his long fingers, twisting it gently as he tuned the tumblers in the clock. Delicate work, as always, requiring a refined and steady hand. The gears in the clock were finicky, but it wouldn’t be the first time that the innards of a timepiece proved to be stubborn. 

It had taken nearly a day just to get the gearbox open, and he was _still_ working on the glass door on the front. It remained stubborn yet, refusing to budge. 

Katsuki leaned over his shoulders, watching as his wrist twisted with the motion of his tool. “That doesn’t look like gold… or silver, for that matter. What are these parts made of?” 

“It’s nothing I’ve ever seen,” Yuri finally admitted. “And the lower door still won’t budge. Honestly, if I believed in fairytales, I’d consider this to be made by the fae.” 

Katsuki raised his eyebrows at that. “Well, I mean--”

“None of that,” Yuri interrupted. “You know it’s impossible.” The other man frowned at that, and Yuri waved the thought away. “It’s just an old clock, with tight hinges. I’ll eventually get it open.” 

“Well, when you’re done with that, let me take a look at the leafing, alright? I’ll spruce it up the best that I can.” And with that, the man left Yuri behind. 

_Grandfather would have loved this piece,_ Yuri thought, swapping his screwdriver for a tiny little hammer. He used the backside of it to pull out an old screw. It was unique for sure, with it’s black wood and golden highlights. Even the carving was exquisite, the corners flared expertly. Katsuki was good, but this was _perfection_. 

Yuri thumbed the tiny little screw before throwing on his glass to get a better look at it. They weren’t needed for everyday use, but he was particularly farsighted when it came down to things. He hummed, picking up a screwdriver, turning it over in his palm. The pig was right, it wasn’t made of gold or silver. He carefully set it back into the hole, screwing it back in. 

Once he deemed this particular work done, he sat back, cracking his knuckles gently. There _was_ a spot for a turnkey, and he found one that seemed like it would fit. Sticking it in, he wound the clock several times, before pulling away. 

It had been stubborn-- gears bent with age, full of dust and leaves. But now that it was properly cleaned, reset and oiled, the gears shifted and began to move. And then a minute passed, and a clock hand ticked with it. Yuri let out a breath, smiling slightly as he eased off his glasses. 

It wasn’t _fixed_ , of course. He still hadn’t gotten the glass door open, to look at the pendulums proper, and it wasn’t likely to keep time well until he did. But the gears moved without locking up, and it was a good start. 

Not bad for a day’s work. 

…

When Yuri woke the next morning, and shuffled into his workshop tiredly, he didn’t notice that that clock had _moved_. 

He set about making a pot of coffee, rubbing at his eyes tiredly before he yawned. The kettle screamed, and he poured the water, waiting for the drink to brew. And then he took his mug, sat in his chair and placed his glasses on his nose. Lifting the mug to his lips, he--

“ _Hey_ .” Yuri’s hand paused slightly, and he blinked tiredly. The voice was masculine, but sounded far away. “Down here-- _no_ , to the left-- _your_ left. Gods, humans are useless.” 

Yuri cocked his head to the side, only to find a tiny man standing on his work table. The clock, which had originally been more central, was now pushed over, laying on its side. He blinked slowly, before looking at his coffee and taking a long sip. “It’s way too fucking early to be hallucinating shit--”

“Are you the one who fixed it?”

That caused Yuri to look back to him, his eyes narrowing. “Fixed what?”

“The clock, of course. What _else_ would I be talking about?” 

Yuri took another sip and then leaned forward to get a better look. The man was only about half a foot tall, able to fit in his hand easily. He was scruffy-looking, his long black hair matted and a wild beard overtaking his face. Gray eyes peered back at him, a scowl worn plainly on his face. Yuri reached out to poke at him, and the tiny man responded by smacking away his fingertip. 

_He was real._ Yuri pulled back, shaking out his hand slightly as he stared. “Of course I fixed it,” he replied. 

“ _Why_.”

“I’m a clockmaker,” Yuri said, as though it were obvious. “It’s what I do.”

“ _It’s what you--”_ the tiny man started, before stopping abruptly and pinching the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. 

“What are you, even?” Yuri asked, moving to poke at him again. 

The man dodged his hand, batting at it once more. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m a _fae_.”

Yuri blinked at that, and then threw his head back and laughed. He _had_ to have been asleep. “That’s ridiculous,” Yuri replied. “Faeries aren’t real--”

“ _Fae_ ,” the man snapped, frowning. 

Yuri frowned right back. “What’s the difference?” As far as _he_ knew, the terms were interchangeable. 

The man didn’t bother a response, instead changing the subject. “Last I checked, this clock was hidden in a faerie house--”

“So you admit that you’re a faerie?” 

“ _Faeries_ are entirely different than what I am,” the man snapped. 

Yuri hummed at that, his fingers curled tightly around his mug of coffee. He still wasn’t entirely convinced that this wasn’t some wild fever dream. The debate of the differences of a _fae_ and a _faerie_ wasn’t helping, either. 

“How did you even _get_ here?” Yuri finally asked. From the way that the other man rolled his eyes, it was apparent that it should have been obvious. It wasn’t, or maybe Yuri was just still _that tired_. He took another sip of his coffee and blinked blearily. 

“The clock,” the man said, waving at it. “You fixed it.”

“We’ve already established that,” Yuri said boredly.

“Which broke my curse,” the man continued. “Well, _sort-of_. There’s more to it than just that.”

"Which broke your--” Yuri paused, his expression pinching slightly. “What do you mean _curse_?”

The man crossed his arms over his chest. “The idea of a curse is pretty cut and dry,” he said sarcastically. “I pissed someone off, and I was bound to this clock forever.”

Yuri considered that for a moment and then said, “Forever is a long time.”

The fae rolled his eyes at that. “I mean, it’s only forever. It could be worse.”

Yuri wasn’t sure it could be, though. “You said something about _there being more to it_.”

The fae sighed at that. “My curse is only _partially_ broken.”

“How is it _fully_ broken?” Yuri was admittedly, curious. 

“It doesn’t matter,” the other man said with a sigh, pressing his fingers against his forehead. “My curse was designed as _impossible_ to break, therefore there’s no point in dwelling on it.”

“Impossible, huh?” Yuri asked, sipping at his coffee again. “Well, whoever cast it on you did a terrible job. Didn’t take much work to break what I did.” At that, the far paused, pulling his hand down and regarding Yuri carefully. Yuri responded with a shrug, before placing his mug down and sliding it toward the man.

“Want any coffee?” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I super didn't beta read this. Oops.

It had taken a moment for Yuri to find something suitable to pour coffee into, but he’d managed to remember where he’d put his thimble. The tiny little man looked a little bit odd drinking out of it-- it was kind of like he was slurping drink from a bucket. 

“Hey, hey, slow down--” Yuri started, “You’ll choke.”

The fae glared at him over the edge of the thimble, but pulled back anyhow, wiping his mouth of the cuff of his sleeve. “I  _ won’t _ ,” he insisted. “It’s just--” A pause, as he placed the thimble down on the ground, carefully balancing it on it’s head. “I haven’t indulged in  _ centuries _ .”

Yuri blinked at that, not quite able to comprehend the idea that this creature had been alive for that long. Obviously the man was  _ real, _ but centuries old? Older than that, if what he said were to be believed. Yuri had his doubts… even if the man was just a little over six inches tall. 

“It’s just coffee,” Yuri finally said. 

“At this point,  _ anything _ is divine; That’s how long it’s been.” The man let out a long sigh, before looking around again. 

“So what now?” Yuri asked, setting his chin in his hand, as he looked down. “Do you have a name or something?”

“That’s of no consequence,” the other man said, shaking out a hand gently. “I’ll be out of your hair shortly. I really should get back--” But he stopped dead, staring at his fingers like there was something wrong with him. 

Yuri blinked. “Everything alright?”

“I-- I can’t--” The fae shook out his hands again, but nothing happened. His lips tugged into a frown, and suddenly he looked a lot older than he first appeared. Maybe there  _ was _ merit to his claim. “My magic is gone,” he finished with, dragging a hand across his beard tiredly. “I mean, I really shouldn’t be surprised, I  _ told _ you that the curse wasn’t entirely broken but…”

“But  _ what _ ?” Yuri supplied, motioning for him to continue. 

“This complicates things,” the fae said, looking back to him. 

“ _ Complicates _ .”

“In any case, I’ll be out of your hair,” the fae sighed.

Yuri watched him carefully, as he poked around his desk. Finally, he asked, “You can’t go home, can you?”

The fae couldn’t hide the slight contempt in his gaze. “That was the implication,” he said sardonically. “I haven’t known  _ many _ humans, but context clues clearly aren’t your forte.” 

“You know, for a  _ stupid _ human, I saved your sorry ass,” Yuri reminded him, motioning to the clock. “I could easily throw you back in there.” Yuri was  _ bluffing _ , but judging by the look on the other man’s face, he had more power than he thought. “Anyway,  _ to continue my fucking thought _ \-- you don’t have anywhere to go, right?”

The fae grunted, but gave him a node. 

“Might as well stay here then. Until you find your magic, or whatever.” 

The fae blinked at that, regarding him warily. “And why should I trust a human?”

Yuri didn’t know why he even offered, if he were to be honest. There was something about the fae’s tone though, that spoke volumes. Despite his assurance he  _ hadn’t known many humans _ , the ones he had, had left an impression. And it wasn’t a good one. 

Yuri sighed, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. “Look, if you want to venture off into who knows where, then by all means, there’s the door.” He pointed to the far corner of his shop, and the tired-looking red door set into the wall. “But you’re small and magic-less, so maybe that’s not a good idea. But I feel bad about accidentally breaking your curse, and whatever, so the  _ least I _ can do is allow you a place to stay.”

The fae considered his offer for a long moment, and then said, “My name is Otabek.” He paused, fingering his wild beard. “Do you have a razor?”

…

After an unsuccessful effort of Otabek trying to shave his face against a very large straight blade, Yuri managed to file down an old nail, sharp enough to get the job done. He watched as Otabek stood before a small mirror, carefully dragging the nail across his face. The thimble had been filled with water, so he ducked his head when done, grabbing at the tea towel set out for him. 

He looked ridiculous, drying himself on a piece of cloth twice is size, but at least he was  _ clean _ . 

Aside from his clothes, at least. Otabek glanced down at himself, cringing at the tattered state of what he wore. “I, uh--” He began, looking back to Yuri, but then paused. What did one say to a human?  _ Thanks _ ? The Fae weren’t accustomed to  _ appreciation _ , past that of material things-- least of all  _ gratitude _ . “I’m sorry about earlier,” he finally settled with, inwardly cringing. 

The Fae weren’t accustomed to apologizing either, and the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. Clearly, his time within the clock had unsettled him. “You were right-- you’ve done me a favor, and I wasn’t very receptive to it.”

Yuri snorted at that. “From one asshole, to another, I get it.” 

Otabek blinked at him, watching as Yuri set about to clean up the mess of his workstation. He pushed aside the mirror and thimble, before neatly placing about his tools.  _ Yuri Plisetsky _ , he remembered the man telling him. What a curious human, Otabek thought. Most would pester him, wanting to know  _ more _ . The fae were an enigma to mortals, and humans were obsessed with understanding what they did not know. 

But Yuri seemed disinterested, turning away to start his morning as normal. 

Yes, definitely  _ curious _ , and Otabek had never thought of a human as such. 

“Mr. Plisetsky--”

“Yuri,” the other man interrupted, correcting him immediately. “Just spit it out. I have work to do.” 

_ So rude _ .  _ No fucking manners _ . Otabek swallowed those thoughts, before he accidentally said something stupid. The fae had no filter, but… he looked at Yuri shrewdly. Neither did this man. He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the door of the workshop being thrown open. 

The man he followed was average height, relatively slender and had jet black hair. “ _ Yurio--” _

“Don’t fucking call me that,” Yuri swore instantly. He already had a clock in his hands, and was set about tuning the gears.

The other man frowned slightly, and Otabek studied his face. Slanted eyes and black-rimmed glasses, full lips and shaggy bangs hanging across his forehead. He rolled his eyes at Yuri’s tone, and said, “I have the list of orders for the day.” He held up a parchment to demonstrate. 

“If JJ’s fucking name is on there--”

“ _ It’s not _ ,” the Asian man promised, and Otabek watched as Yuri breathed a sigh of relief. The other man crossed the room and dropped the list onto the work table. “Let me know when you get this first piece working, and I’ll come and finished, yes?”

Yuri grunted something that might have been a reply, but the Asian man seemed to comprehend it well enough. And then he looked to the side and saw Otabek. 

He frowned, slightly, his brow creasing in confusion. He wiggled around the glasses perched on his nose, looking over and then through them, trying to comprehend. Otabek had been about to introduce himself, when the man promptly fainted. 

Yuri paused in his work, a tool held gently in his hand, as he looked down. And then he sighed tiredly. 

“Well, that’s annoying.”

  
  


….

After dealing with the aggravation that was  _ Katsudon _ and making sure that he wasn’t dead, Yuri eased back onto his stool at his workbench, intent on at least getting  _ some _ work done. 

And Otabek remained quiet. At first he poked around a bit, clearly antsy. Yuri would be too, if he’d been locked away for centuries. When the fae got bored, he gathered up the tea towel he’d used earlier, arranging it into a pile. Plopping onto it, he watched Yuri work. 

And Yuri did. He tuned the gears in clock after clock. He adjusted pendulums and tested the timing weights. When one was done, it was placed aside for Yuuri to finish up, and Yuri moved onto the next. 

“How did you come about clockmaking?” Otabek asked after a long while. 

Yuri paused, having nearly forgotten that he was there. The silence between had been comfortable, and Yuri hadn’t felt that since… Well, since his grandfather was alive. 

“Family business,” Yuri finally said. “It’s just what we do. My grandfather, his grandfather, and so on.”

“And the other man? Is he an assistant?”

“Partner,” Yuri corrected, though his tone was a little clipped. He was unsure why the fae cared. “I’m not good at making them pretty, I’m only good at fixing them. All the painted and carving and whatnot? That’s all him.”

Otabek hummed softly, causing Yuri to look at him. He’d pulled himself up from the tea towel, and was poking at one of the clocks set to the side. Yuuri had already designed, carved and polished the clock, before Yuri had added the clockwork parts. Now that the mechanism was attached and balanced, Yuuri would finish it up with a final polish and any painted details he wished to add. 

Yuri had often told him to just finish the housing before hand, but he liked to  _ match _ the details with the clockwork mechanism.  _ Art snob _ .

The fae fingered the wood gently and said, “He’s got a good eye. I’m impressed with his work.”

“Yeah, that’s what my grandfather said.” They both paused, and Yuri mentally kicked himself. The words had just slipped out and he hadn’t been prepared for how  _ easily _ it had come. 

“Your--”

“I don’t want to talk about him.”

He expected Otabek to press the issue, but the fae snapped his mouth shut and dropped it.  _ Curious _ . 

….

When Yuuri came back several hours later, he brought Otabek several gifts. 

“I’m sorry for uh--- my reaction earlier,” he said to him, dropping a pile of fabric onto the work bench. “I wasn’t prepared to see a faerie and--”

“I’m a  _ fae _ ,” Otabek immediately snapped, and Yuuri blinked. 

“He’s got a complex about that,” Yuri said from where he was working off to the side. “Insisting it’s different, or whatever.”

“It  _ is--” _

“In any event,” Yuuri said, “I apologize. Fainting isn’t the kindest way to greet someone, if I were to be honest.” He started to dig through the pile next to them, sorting it out. “I went digging in storage. Yuri had an old doll as a child--”

“Hey!” Yuri immediately snapped, threatening to throw a tool at him.

Yuuri shot him an amused glance, and continued with, “I  _ wanted _ to see if I could find it’s old clothes and success!” He held up a pair of trousers to show them off. “They look like they might fit you, and if they dont, I could take them in a stitch or two.”

“You don’t have too--” Otabek started, but Yuuri interrupted him. 

“Nonsense. You can’t wear those rags.”

Otabek didn’t quite know what to say, as he reached out for the garment. Holding it up to him, it seemed like they’d do well enough. “I--- er--  _ thanks _ .” Twice in one day, he’d apologized to a human, and willingly at that-- what was the world coming to? 

His sister would be  _ beside _ herself, in deranged amusement. 

“I am Otabek,” he finally said. 

The other man smiled, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “It’ll get confusing, but I’m  _ also _ Yuuri. Yuuri Katsuki. Pleasure to meet you.”

….

They eased into a simple routine, over the next few days. 

Yuri woke when the birds did, grousing the entire time. His stomping around and clanging around the shop, which in turn woke Otabek-- who’d taken to sleeping in his clock. Yuri would work the entire day, and Otabek would watch quietly. Then they would eat, retire and repeat. 

The company was companionable. Yuri would have never thought, if he were honest. He was the kind of person that  _ didn’t get along with people _ \-- He barely tolerated Yuuri. But Otabek was easy. Otabek listened to whatever he complained about with prejudice, humming along in response. 

And Yuri knew that the fae was trying to figure out a way back home, and that the arrangement was temporary, but Yuri  _ enjoyed _ the company. He’d be sad when it was gone. 

That morning wasn’t any different, really. Yuri was barely awake and grouchy, clambering around the room with ill-restrained annoyance. He set a pot of water to boil, slamming his mug onto the counter. 

He watched as Otabek poked his head around the door of his clock, his eyes bleary with sleep. He was weirdly adorable in his  _ slightly _ too big clothes and sleep-mussed hair and-- 

Yuri threw that thought away  _ immediately _ . 

Otabek tied his hair up, yawning tiredly. Yuri poured him a thimble of coffee, and he accepted eagerly, stretching out the kinks in his neck. 

Yuri frowned slightly, settling into his work chair. “Are you sure that the clock is comfortable enough?”

Otabek blinked slowly, like he was processing the question. “I assure you, it’s fine.” 

Yuri grunted, but accepted the answer, sipping at his mug. He watched Otabek for a long moment and then asked, “So you keep saying that the fae are  _ different _ , but you don’t really go into detail.” It’d been a question burned into his thoughts for over a week. 

Otabek settled onto a pile of tea towels, carefully piled into a somewhat chair. “Fairies are vile little creatures,” he said, sniffing at the thimble. “They’re entire purpose is to be a nuisance.” 

“You’re little too, you know,” Yuri pointed out. 

“At the  _ moment _ , yes, but this isn’t my natural state.” Otabek waved his hand towards the clock. “The curse.”

“Ah, right.” Both of them sipped at their coffee. And then Yuri took the plunge-- “ _ Why _ did you get cursed?”

Otabek frowned. “I honestly don’t remember, it was so long ago. But I  _ do _ remember that it wasn’t important.”

“Then why would--”

“Because  _ Oberon _ is a man ruled by his whims.”  _ Oberon _ . Not the first time Yuri had heard the fae reference him. “The king of the Fae,” Otabek continued, “which makes him think he can do  _ anything _ .” 

“Well I mean, if he’s a King--”

“Only of his court. He’s a pain in the ass.” Yuri blinked at that, looking to Otabek. The man wasn’t one to talk about his past, so he was surprised at the explanation. 

“So let me get this straight,” Yuri said, warming his hands around his mug. “You annoyed this King, he got angry and cursed you to the clock for  _ eternity _ .”

“Yes.”

“And I  _ partially _ broke the curse.”

“By fixing the clock,” Otabek surmised. 

“So how is it  _ fully _ broken?” 

Otabek hummed at that. “True love,” he replied quietly. “Like any good faerietale.”

Yuri’s brow wrinkled. “What the fuck kind of condition is  _ that? _ ”

The fae raised an eyebrow. “Are you not familiar with faerie curses?”

Well, no he wasn’t, but Otabek’s tone seemed  _ teasing _ almost. “How’s that supposed to happen if you’re trapped in a clock, in the middle of nowhere?”

“ _ Exactly _ ,” Otabek replied with a sinister smile. 

_ Oh _ . It was dramatic  _ irony _ . Yuri finally got it. “This Oberon dude sounds like a dick.”

“You aren’t wrong,” Otabek said. 

Yuri sipped at his coffee again. “You know, you’re awfully relaxed about this whole thing. I’d be fucking  _ pissed _ , especially if I couldn’t get back home.”

At that, Otabek sighed, his gaze drifting off into thought. Yuri frowned, he didn’t  _ like _ the man looking like that. “Eternity isn’t forever,” Otabek finally said. 

Yuri snorted. “That’s the literal definition of it.”

“I  _ guess _ .”

Yuri couldn’t help it, he cracked a smile at the man’s sassy tone. “Well, we’ll figure it out. We’ll get you home.” 

Otabek had eased up around him over the last week, but it was the first time that he’d smiled. 

….

The day passed quickly, and Otabek and Yuri found themselves with downtime after dinner. The fire was warm, and Yuri was tinkering with the clock. Otabek sat off to the side, humming softly under his breath, and Yuri found that he  _ liked  _ it. Actually, he liked everything about the picture. It was an easy companionship. 

“I think if I can get the clock working proper, maybe you’ll get your magic back.”

Otabek didn’t seem convinced. “Don’t hold your breath. I doubt you’ll get the gearbox open.”

Yuri scoffed, but the fae was right. The stupid thing still wouldn’t budge. “Hey, the Pig realized that this wasn’t a  _ normal _ type of wood, and then the findings inside of the clock-- they aren’t any metal I’ve ever seen.”

“Of course not. Do you think conventional materials could hold a fae?” But before Otabek could explain further, the door to the shop burst open and a wind swept into the room. The Fae was immediately on his feet, snarling and Yuri could see--  _ fangs _ ? 

“Otabek what--”

“ _ Ah, a human, of course _ .” 

Yuri looked to the door, only to find a brilliant looking man. His beauty was unearthly-- tall, slender and silver hair. His head was adorned with the horns of a deer, and his eyes glittered dangerously. 

“I  _ thought _ I felt an annoying little tingle,” the man said, his lips curling around his words with amusement. He brushed at his clothing-- which seemed to be made of fine leathers and branches and leaves. “I am surprised that someone found you, Otabek. Truthfully, I’d almost forgotten all about you.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Have questions? A burning need for answers? Have a story idea? Just want to talk Otayuri? Don't forget to check out my [Tumblr](https://missmarquin.tumblr.com/), and drop an ask!


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